


Freezing

by the_realduck



Series: Freezing [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_realduck/pseuds/the_realduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is constantly cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freezing

Castiel is constantly cold.

His hands are always icy, and he walks around the house in bulky sweaters; shivering, clutching cups of tea in chilled hands.

His bedsheets are cool to the touch; when Cas slides between them at night he huddles into a ball, and no amount of blankets can warm him.

Castiel feels like he’s been cold forever.

Truthfully, he’s always had a tendency to be cold. Even when he was a child he would seek solace in thick, fuzzy socks and burning fireplaces. After a lifetime of being frozen, he should be used to it by now.

He would have been.

Then Dean happened.

The day Dean walked into his life, it was like the sun breaking after an eternal winter. Green eyes that sparkled with warmth and a smirk that lit a fire in Castiel’s blood.

When Dean kissed him, his lips burned; when Dean touched him, his hands felt too hot, and later Castiel fancied that he could still feel the tingling patterns on his skin.

Dean filled pieces of his life that Castiel had never even known were void. His bed was no longer cold with Dean in it, and when Cas huddled over a cup of tea trying to absorb the steam, Dean would be there to pluck the mug from his grasp and put his hands to better use.

Touching Dean was like touching a burning hot stove; warmth building under Cas’ skin until it felt like he was going to burst into flame.

Slowly the ice that had long covered Castiel melted. For the first time, he found himself picturing a future filled with warmth. Dean was made of burning embers, and Cas had desperately grabbed at the heat.

He was overwhelmed by the scorching frenzy - fingers clutching at flushed skin, damp hair clinging to his forehead, and three words that escaped from his lips in the heat of the moment.

He had been a fool.

Dean was not made to be held onto, and one morning, instead of waking to warm lips and green eyes, Cas awoke to an empty bed. The drawer that once held old band t-shirts was barren.

He sent texts and calls that went unanswered, and yet he waited for days-

Weeks-

Months-

By the time Castiel is finished waiting, the perpetual ice has resettled into his blood, and no amount of the whiskey he drowns himself in can warm him up.

So Cas falls into his frozen bed every night, wishing he could forget the freckles and sunny kisses and melting touches.

He promises himself that it’ll be better in the morning.

(It won’t.)

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is loved.


End file.
